Cupcakery

So in a Chop-socky movie, you get down to the end and the final confrontation, where the villain shows off his bad-ass martial arts moves. Then the hero looks at him, and smiles politely.

“Your fu is good,” the hero says. “But still, mine is better.”

And then proceeds to kick the bad guy’s butt.

My fu is better. I know this because as I was driving out to the farm the other day, I was stopped at a light behind a pickup truck with a big sticker on the tailgate advertising the Ravensdale Cupcakery.

Let that sink in for a second. I bet you had no idea there was such a thing as a cupcakery. You’ve lived your whole live eating corporate cupcakes produced in a bakery that made other things, with cupcakes being just a side gig they really didn’t care all that much about. These people do one thing. Cupcakes. And they do it close enough to me that I could just run by on my way home some night and get cupcakes.

Your fu is good. Mine is better. I know a cupcakery.

But, I’m also close, so I could possibly be convinced to swing by and pick them up for you, if I was headed in your direction from the farm, and you felt like bribing me with cupcakes.

Because, you know, cupcakes.

And if you make it out to see them, you’re only a few miles from the farm, so you should definitely reach out. You can always show up on my doorstep bearing bribes for your favorite redneck writer.

Because, you know, cupcakes.